


Against the Sky

by inkclone



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, endgame kakasaku, kind of slice-of-life-y tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkclone/pseuds/inkclone
Summary: On growing up, falling down, and why it's perfectly possible to do both at once.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written between 2010 and 2012 and posted on another site. Since I have migrated from that site, I figured it would be nice to have everything here. The KakaSaku fandom is small and I would say most older fans probably know or know of each other, so for anyone else who's been around since the mid-2000s - hello! To everyone else who fell in love with this pairing later along the way - I'm so glad you're here! For a non-canon couple the manga has actually been fairly good to us. Then again, I also like to pretend the last 2-ish chapters of the manga didn't happen so there's that, heh.
> 
> This fic is AU as of after the Akatsuki arc (i.e., before the Great War). 
> 
> Finally, this is a salute to Kishimoto-sensei, whose Naruto series has been with me through more than 10 years of growing up. The characters and story are his, but the good times are ours to keep. Enjoy.

 

_Here’s the day you hoped would never come_

_Don’t feed me violins just run_

_With me through rows of speeding cars._

~Imogen Heap; Speeding Cars

 

* * *

When Sakura knocks on the Godaime’s door to ask for an apprenticeship, her thoughts are situated on one thing only: Naruto, and his promise to bring Sasuke back home. She is single-minded and confident, unshaken in her belief that the legendary Tsunade-sama will be able to mold her into someone who can stand tall and straight beside Naruto, Konoha’s number one “surprise” ninja, and Sasuke, the last Uchiha. In her thirteen-year-old mind, that goal consumes everything else in its intensity. They are her precious teammates – friends, brothers, soul mates – and she will stop at nothing to reunite their team. Kakashi-sensei – well, he’s _Kakashi-sensei_ , the strongest and most brilliant ninja she has ever encountered on the battlefield, and she knows him enough to know that he can pick himself up and move on.

What she doesn’t know is that the day Naruto leaves with Jiraiya, Kakashi waits four hours for her in the blazing heat on the bridge they – Team Seven – normally meet at for training. While Sakura was getting her first lesson from the Fifth, Kakashi is hurrying through the bustling Konoha market, searching high and low for his remaining student. It is only when he overhears Shizune tell Tonton’s veterinarian that Tsunade-sama had taken in a new, pink-haired apprentice (which was apparently the reason why she sent Shizune to get the little pig vaccinated in her stead) that Kakashi realizes Sakura never expected him to hang around.

It’s a little sad, Kakashi thinks, when your own student leaves you behind to chase their own dreams without telling you first. And yet, Sakura – Sakura was supposed to be the grounded one, the realist underneath all her pretty dreams, and the one who knew when to cut her losses and just _go_. Sakura was supposed to be the one untouched by tragedy, untouched by the ugliness the world of ninja was made of and untouched by grief.

Still, she leaves. The ground isn’t enough for her, and she’s going to make the seas and skies answer to her broken heart. Kakashi knows a lot of things – a lot of things that Naruto and Sasuke will never listen to, and he knows better than to try to chain her down.

Late in the evening, he goes home – sealed scroll in hand – and unearths an old uniform from his reckless teenage days. He hasn’t changed much in ten years, and the metal still fits snugly around his lean frame.

Kakashi has failed each of his three students in turn – first Sasuke, and then Naruto, and now Sakura – and he has no intention of wallowing in the mistakes he has made. There is no place that he has learned faster at than with ANBU, and back to its shadowy arms he will return.

Two and a half years later, he returns to the regular jounin ranks of Konoha. The day he returns, Tsunade puts him back on a team and tells him to have a little fun before she sends them off into the field. Kakashi returns to find things have changed more than he expected. Naruto has always been a wildcard, predictable in his unpredictability, but his third genin student had always been easier to grasp. He had heard that many from the Rookie Twelve had gone on to become chuunin, but-

“I’ve found you, Kakashi-sensei!”

The ground breaks from above his head, and even with the dust and debris flying everywhere, the only thing Kakashi can see is a pair of triumphant green eyes.

* * *

Sakura goes home after training. She fixes herself a snack of origiri from day-old rice and polishes her kunai and senbon needles while her bath water is running. She takes her time in the bath and misses two telephone calls, presumably because of her loud (and off-key) singing. When she emerges from the bath, her skin is damp and her hair hangs in pink spikes around her face; she arranges her wet locks in a practical ponytail and grabs her house keys before heading out.

Kakashi knows this because he follows her after their training session. He is curious. The Sakura he saw successfully working with Naruto to get the bells from him is very different from the Sakura he remembers. Kakashi isn’t blind – he has always known that Sakura was a wellspring of untapped potential, even from the early days of their team’s formation, but he always assumed that Sakura’s silly and boy-crazy temperament would severely hamper any efforts to train her to become a better ninja. For the most part, he found his assumption correct during Team 7’s early days.

The Sakura he remembered lacked confidence, was up to her eyeballs in girlish fantasies, and was whiny and liked giving up.

So lost Kakashi is in his thoughts that he nearly misses a step when he hears Sakura say – in front of the teahouse he has tracked her to – “Table for two, please.”

And then she turns, and looks straight at him. Wordlessly, she turns back and enters the teahouse, extending to him a silent invitation.

He pauses for a moment, and then follows her through the door.

* * *

They don’t talk as they order. In fact, they don’t talk as they eat either. Now faced with the girl he left two and a half years ago, Kakashi has no idea what to say. Or maybe, he just doesn’t know where to start. Sakura herself doesn’t seem to have any inclination of initiating conversation with the way she shovels food into her mouth.

When they finish, Kakashi wordlessly pays for the bill. Sakura seems slightly surprised, but doesn’t try to argue. She simply wraps her hands – fingernails painted a nude shade of pink, Kakashi notes – around her steaming cup of tea and watches as Kakashi slides gloved hands into the pockets of his vest. Their neighbours switch and eat and switch and eat, but they just continue to sit. Kakashi stares down at the table, but he is trying to figure her out.

The Sakura sitting in front of him now seems sweeter. Sweeter, calmer, and infinitely sadder. He can see it now – there is sadness at the edge of her smiles and in the corners of her eyes. He wonders when the change happened, because the Sakura he left behind had never been touched by grief. The Sakura he left behind was selfish and whiny, but she was also essentially good-natured and obedient, and heartbreakingly innocent. He had liked that about her. She was entirely untouched by darkness – something that had already begun to eat away at Sasuke and creep into Naruto.

Kakashi surprises Sakura – and himself – by breaking the silence first. “You know, I waited for you.”

Sakura’s eyes narrow in confusion.

“The day that Naruto left,” Kakashi clarifies. “It was a Tuesday. A training day. I waited for you, but you never showed.”

Green eyes widen in understanding, and then fill with something Kakashi struggles to identify. Is it surprise? Happiness? Guilt? He is slightly frustrated at his inability to read the Sakura in front of him, because the Sakura he left behind was never so difficult to understand.

“I-I…” she begins, fiddling with the cup in her hands.

“Didn’t think I’d stick around for you after Naruto and Sasuke left?” The sheepish silence after his interruption confirms it, and Kakashi can’t help the self-deprecating smile that climbs onto his face behind the mask.

He looks up for the first time in their conversation. “I’m sorry, Sakura.”

Her eyes shoot up to meet his mismatched gaze. “Sensei…”

He wonders if she knows what he’s apologizing for. He wonders if he even knows, himself, what he is apologizing for. For neglecting to nurture her talent? For never being around for her? For telling her everything would be okay, even though things fell apart the very week he uttered those words?

“But I’m glad. I’m glad you went to Tsunade-sama. You’re a lot stronger than I ever gave you credit for, Sakura.”

The girl lowers her gaze again, a small smile playing upon pink lips. She sighs softly, and rests her chin against the palm of her hand, looking out the window of the teahouse. It is well into the evening now, and Sakura can see the lights of the various eating establishments through the glass. She imagines for a second that she can see Ichiraku Ramen, and the blond teammate that would undoubtedly be there.

Yes, the Sakura sitting across from Kakashi is infinitely sadder. Sadder, older, and wiser. Maybe not by very much, but still. Kakashi sips his tea and watches his ex-student with his hooded gaze, wondering what her life was like during the two years he was away.

No other words are exchanged that night.

* * *

Konoha’s Rookie Twelve actually become chuunin in three successive batches. Last to pass the test, and also promoted merely weeks before Naruto’s return were Kiba, Tenten, and Lee. Six months beforehand were Shino, Hinata, Chouji, and Ino. First to pass the test – which occurred only half a year after Sasuke’s defection from the village, and Naruto’s subsequent exit – were Neji and Sakura.

It comes as a surprise to everyone except Tsunade – but then again, the Godaime Hokage was possibly the only person in the entire Fire Country who understood Sakura and the motivation behind her determination to become strong.

The night Neji and Sakura are officially promoted to chuunin, the Rookie Twelve celebrate together at Ichiraku Ramen. The next day, Tsunade gives Sakura a puppy, mangled beyond recognition, to heal. Sakura stands at the operating table for five hours and expends three-quarters of her chakra in trying to save the silently heaving animal, but fails.

Sakura is devastated. Her hands shake as she finally removes them from the puppy’s slowly stilling form, and she turns her tear-filled gaze upon her teacher.

“Sakura.” Tsunade’s voice is uncharacteristically soft and gentle, the permanent crease upon her forehead smooth. “Sometimes, no matter how hard we try and how much we cry, we just can’t save them.”

As her teacher leaves the room, Sakura thinks of boys who become men much too early and men who never had a chance to be boys. Later, as she scrubs the dried blood out from under her fingernails, Sakura can’t help but think about the faces carved out on the Hokage’s mountain – especially the last one, with her fierce temper and strong hands and broken, _broken_ heart – and despairs. 

* * *

One month before Sasuke’s seventeenth birthday, Naruto and Sakura have their worst fight ever. It’s horrible and there are more words left unsaid there than the day back when they were twelve and on the rooftop of the hospital when Naruto tells Sakura not to interfere with the rivalry between Sasuke and himself, and Kakashi is – for a moment – afraid that their relationship will not be able to survive. It is a frightening thought.

Usually, their fights are rather one-sided, with Sakura pulling out fists and Naruto stammering out apologies, but this time their disagreement is not about some mere petty issue – Naruto is going to look for Sasuke again, and it kills Sakura because even if she has always been a little useless compared to Naruto and Sasuke, she’s always had a little more brain matter than the two of them (combined) and she knows that there will be no happy ending if the two of them clash again. Naruto is obstinate in his belief that he can change Sasuke – make him see the light, grab his hand and force him out of the darkness – but Sakura is equally staunch in her belief that only Sasuke can save himself now. It hurts too much to think about it. Sakura is sick and tired of running after a man who simply doesn’t want to be found – if Sasuke had wanted to come home, he would have done so long ago. With Madara dead and the old council decimated, there was no reason for him to remain a missing-nin.

They are barely out of the Hokage’s office – a sealed scroll clutched carefully in Naruto’s large hands – when the dam breaks. Sakura cannot understand why Naruto has to continually do this to himself ( _to her, to Kakashi-sensei_ ) when there is already plenty that he needs to protect and live for within the village itself. She just cannot understand and it makes her upset because each time Naruto returns from another fruitless search it takes a little bit of his smile away.

When they have exhausted themselves yelling at each other, Naruto slumps, back against the wall, and whispers, “Sakura, I have to find him. I have to bring him back. I promised.”

Green eyes narrow dangerously and she slaps him across the face. It’s not one of her strongest hits, but the venom in her gaze is enough to make it sting more than usual. Sakura’s voice is deadly calm when she answers him.

“Don’t use me as an excuse again.” Her eyes are twin mirrors of ice and for the first time in his life, Naruto is frightened of her. “If you’re going to try and bring him back, do it of your own accord. Not because of some childish promise we made a lifetime ago.”

And then she is gone, and Naruto wonders how he didn’t notice that the little girl he called “Sakura-chan” had quietly stolen away and been replaced by a woman who no longer believed in fairytales. Had it really been a lifetime ago? He gives his head a little shake to clear the prickling sensation creeping up his nose, and grips the scroll tighter.

This time, he will not fail.

* * *

 Sakura throws a kunai (as well as a pair of shoes, four hardcover medical textbooks, a flowerpot, a framed picture) at Kakashi when he knocks at her window at two in the morning to ask her whether or not she’s going to see Naruto off the next morning. She rains curses down on him and rages for half an hour but she doesn’t say no, and Kakashi isn’t surprised to find her pushing through the crowd just as Naruto is about to turn and leave through the gates of Konoha once again.

Her lips are pinched in a thin line and her fists are clenched already, but her eyes soften at the sight of Naruto – flanked by Neji, Hinata, and Lee, the ones who have never stopped believing in everything he stands for – and she enfolds him in what must be a rib-crushing hug.

“You better come back alive,” she growls, more ferociously than Kakashi has ever thought possible (and you better believe he has seen his fair share of Sakura’s temper tantrums), and in the split second where the embrace breaks and Naruto is off, he sees that the blonde’s eyes have watered up again.

Sakura and Kakashi stand and watch the four of them leave, and continue to stay long after the last villager has left.

“Hey, sensei?” Sakura finally speaks, softly. “Why are boys so stupid?”

He remembers a similar question she had asked him on that fateful day on the hospital rooftop.

_Sensei…what’s going to happen? What are we going to do?_

Kakashi turns toward her and finds that sweetly sad expression on her face again. It breaks him – just a little – and for once, he doesn’t lie to her.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

True to Sakura’s prediction, Naruto returns to Konoha two months later with no prodigal brother by his side. Still, if Sakura’s unpredictable temper is her weakness, then her unshakeable ability to forgive is her greatest strength, and Kakashi watches as she waits by the gates to welcome him home. They both know that for Naruto, this will be a wound that will never heal – one that he will never _let_ heal – but that’s okay, as long as he doesn’t give up on life and the people around him. They know they don’t have to worry about him, because _giving up_ is something that Naruto just doesn’t do. He will always bounce back with, twice as enthusiastic and three times as quick as the previous time, and just a little bit wiser to top it off.

He has the recognition and love of villagers and ninja alike now, and Kakashi can’t help but smile underneath his mask every time a random person runs up to Naruto to tell him that he’s their hero. Because really, Naruto was always meant to become someone important and altogether too large for life – it’s in his blood. Naruto looks more and more like his father with each passing day, and each time he is reminded of that fact, Kakashi feels more strongly that his life has been worth something.

Sakura, too, is becoming a success story – although her success can hardly be attributed to him. She has just turned seventeen and is already the most sought-after medic-nin in the entire Fire Country. It’s a far cry from the little girl who beamed down at him from the tree he had taught her to climb.

This is all nice and good, but Kakashi doesn’t realize the extent of his attachment to his students – every single one of them – until the missions start flowing in again. Team Kakashi has been in high demand for a while now, but then Sakura gets a sealed red mission scroll – handed to her by a grim-faced Tsunade – and Kakashi realizes that Naruto isn’t the only one who has been to places far away from home. Sakura is insanely strong and kind and may be the best medic-nin-who-is-not-Hokage for miles around, but when it comes down to it, Sakura is young and beautiful and a kunoichi.

Naruto throws a temper tantrum and complains that it’s not fair that Sakura-chan gets to have solo missions when he doesn’t and can’t she just give him a little tiny eentsy weentsy peek at the inside of the scroll because he promises that he won’t tell anyone about it, but Sakura simply cuffs him on the head and accepts the scroll from Tsunade, smiling in that sad sort of way that she did the very first night Kakashi comes back from ANBU.

That night, Kakashi sits in her windowsill and watches as Sakura packs. She natters about her day at the hospital as she shoves kunai and senbon into a pack, and earrings and hair pins into another, and sighs as she looks into the mirror, wondering out loud whether or not she should part her hair down the middle or off to the side. Kakashi realizes that he has never seen her with her hair – long again, reaching down to the middle of her back and curling slightly at the ends – parted to the side. Most days it is up in a sensible bun and out of sight, but Kakashi notices that she has a habit of letting it down when training for the day is done. He starts the first time he realizes this, because it turns out that Sakura really still is a girl – just half as silly and ten times as dangerous as when they first met.

Still, she is only seventeen. _Seventeen_. Seventeen is the age for discovering alcohol and boys, not suiting up to seduce dirty old men on behalf of villages that won’t ever acknowledge the sacrifices made to keep their houses safe. Kakashi himself is no stranger to these types of missions and something inside him clenches at the thought of his sugar-spun and wide-eyed student having to play the part of a simpering courtesan.

Packing completed, Sakura walks over to the window and rests her head upon hands that are held up by elbows perched on the edge of the ledge that his feet do not occupy. If Kakashi looks closely, he can see the moon reflected in her large green eyes, and all of a sudden he is overcome with a sudden, gripping desire to burn her mission scroll and lock her in the room. He even has a plan formulated in ten seconds flat for getting the scroll off of her belt, but then Sakura looks at him – as if she understands – and smiles.

“Don’t worry about me, sensei. When I finish this mission, it will be the third one of its nature that I’ve completed.”

All shinobi children grow up too quickly. Konoha is a flourishing village within the borders of a grand country, but everything comes with a price.

Kakashi looks away from the girl (woman) standing beside him and tries not to think about a girl he once knew, so very _very_ long ago. She, too, was a medic-nin, but titles like that don’t matter much in war. She, too, took her first red scroll mission before she was seventeen, but by the time she was twenty she could no longer look him in the eye when they talked. Two weeks before she should have turned twenty-one (and she was almost two years older than he had been, he remembers), she filled her backpack with rocks and walked into a river on the outskirts of Konoha.

Rin had always wondered whether or not all rivers eventually emptied into seas. Team Minato never had the chance to embark on missions that took them to the ocean.

Kakashi watches as the pink-haired chuunin dissolves into the inky shadows between apartment buildings and tries not to let the long-forgotten feeling of helplessness overwhelm him.

When she returns, Kakashi notes with relief that she is still wearing a small smile on her face. A ninja’s body is a tool, and Kakashi accepts that she has been taught well. Still, the elaborate silk kimono she is wearing flows over her body like streams of crimson lava, and Kakashi feels himself falling into something a little bit like a dream. And then the feeling is gone and Kakashi is so overcome with shame that he has to turn away.

Sakura reaches out and grasps his sleeve lightly, eyes wide with concern. When he doesn’t turn around, she bites her lip. Her small hand – nails carefully painted a deep, blood red – retreats back beneath the folds of her voluminous sleeves. She steps away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Along the vein of this-fic-is-very-AU/canon-divergent - Sasuke isn't COMPLETELY psycho and doesn't try to kill Sakura like three times in this universe. Therefore - Sasuke cameo!)

_If the children don't grow up_

_Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up_

_We're just a million little gods causing rain storms_

_Turning everything to rust_

_I guess we'll just have to adjust_

~Wake Up; Arcade Fire

* * *

Sakura is eighteen years old and returning to Konoha from another one of her solo missions. Except this time, it is a three-month excursion to the Hidden Sand to help them implement a new medic-training programme that she helped design. It should have only taken 3 weeks, but the Sand village is vast and quiet and the Kazekage and his siblings treat her very well and she finds that she is enjoying the time away from Konoha. She needs a bit of a reprieve – a little space to think things through. Konoha is too stuffy, with its inhabitants always out and about and prying and talking more than listening, and Sakura finds that the Sand, with its wide desert and clear blue sky, is ironically like a cool draft in a steam room she is dying to get out of.

Still, her duties nag insistently at her – she is well-aware of where her loyalties lie, and when the sun sets on her eighty-fifth day in Sand, Sakura knows that she should go home.

She is a day and a half away from Konoha – and staying the night at a roadside inn – when she feels it. His chakra signature has been permanently branded into her soul, and she knows he is there even before he checks into the same inn.

Naruto has been searching fruitlessly for Sasuke for years, but has found no trace. Sasuke always was a selfish boy; no one would be able find him unless he allowed himself to be found. Sakura knows that he knows she is only several rooms away from him, but she doesn’t know what he wants. She isn’t even sure she knows what _she_  wants.

When Sasuke noiselessly slides into the barstool next to hers’, he is so quiet that it takes her a minute to realize that he is right there. Right there. She could just shift her arm a little and her elbow would brush his.

It’s funny, Sakura thinks, that once upon a time she would have given up everything to be with this boy. She can still feel his stare boring into her, but the intensity of his gaze has mellowed into something that might have been found in his expression back when they were on the same team. Sakura doesn’t let herself dwell on that thought, and orders a drink for him instead.

Many drinks later they are in his room, fumbling with zippers and clasps, but even as Sasuke nudges her onto her back there is a sort of uncertainty, a sort of hesitancy in the ways his fingers grasp at hers. Once upon a time, Sakura would have held on to that. The Sakura now knows better than to sponge colours onto a blank reality, but she appreciates it all the same. When they are done, Sakura sighs softly and pulls the covers up to her chest, staring up at the ceiling with hooded eyes. She hears Sasuke turn and watch her until she looks back at him, and then their eyes lock for the first time that night and Sakura knows that he has come to a realization: what has changed can never be restored.

Sasuke has lost count of the number of kisses she gave him that night, but behind each and every one is a sense of finality. Goodbye, Sasuke. That is what she is saying. Goodbye, goodbye, _goodbyegoodbyegoodbyegoodbye_ -

He reaches for her again, and her eyes flutter shut.

* * *

One of the best weapons a kunoichi has is the statistically-proven fact that more than 95% of men fall into deep sleep post coitus. Shinobi males are not exempt from this fact, although the depth and length of sleep may vary and should be taken into consideration. Before Sasuke falls asleep, Sakura is just another girl, but as Sasuke drifts off, her mind unconsciously reverts to that of a seasoned kunoichi. Sasuke is no longer a missing-nin, but he is still a thorn in Konoha’s side and more importantly, the precious brother that Naruto has never had. Sakura is sorely tempted. There are a dozen different ways she can ensure he stays asleep until she is well within Konoha’s walls, but there is a touch of selfishness inside her that stills her overly-analytical brain. Sasuke may still be that cold and arrogant bastard who left her behind on a bench, but he has lost some of the darkness that had so thoroughly permeated his soul. Their encounter is only just reaching the fourth hour, but it becomes clear to Sakura that Sasuke is beginning to search for meaning within his life. He is still smooth and has the air of someone untouchably distant, but there is that slight hesitancy, that slight wonder, and the slight interest in something other than revenge that strikes a chord within Sakura’s heart. After all, Sakura’s heart had been in his grasp for so long.

Sakura softly runs her hands over his brow – unfurrowed and smooth, for once – and he stirs; she knows that if she is to act she will have to do so quickly and coldly.

She cannot do it.

Sakura takes her time pulling her clothes on, and the door closes silently behind her. Still, let it never be said that Haruno Sakura went easy on the man she had once pledged her eternal loyalty to – she sends up a cup of tea to his room (for the hangover she is certain he will wake up with) and laces it with an undetectable laxative.

It’s only fair that she have a little fun at his expense. This _is_  the bastard who left her on a cold stone bench, after all.

Sakura returns to Konoha with all four limbs intact and no Sharingan-wielding avenger hot at her heels, hell bent on – well – _revenge_. The two chuunin on duty at the gates give her friendly smiles and waves as she steps through, and to her surprise, there is a lone figure leaning against a light post directly in front of her. His slouch is familiar and the way he lazily gives her a finger salute in greeting makes her heart jump a little.

“Yo,” Kakashi says, his eye crinkling into a familiar crease.

“Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura exclaims. “What are you doing here? 

“What do you think?” He easily falls into step with her as they walk further into the village. “Naruto is out on a mission with Sai, but he wanted to make sure that there’d be someone around to see you at the gates when you came back.”

Sakura smiles fondly at the explanation before quirking her lips up slightly. “So. What is this? Some sort of guilt-trip induced favour to him?”

Kakashi fakes a sigh. “I wish. This is the first D-ranked mission I’ve had since I was five.” 

She smacks him with the back of her hand, and he stumbles slightly to the side. “Sensei!”

The eye crinkle is back. “Just kidding, Sa-ku-ra~” He looks down at her then, his eyes uncharacteristically soft. “I just wanted to see how you were doing after spending so much time away from Konoha.”

Sakura looks up at the sky and sees lush greenery framing her peripheral view. The people around her are bustling with life, and there is a fresh breeze that brings the delicious smell of deep-fried octopus to her nose.

“I think I really missed home,” Sakura confesses, exhaling loudly through her mouth. The thought surprises her – she never realized how comforting home was, and how much she subconsciously missed it, until she was back within its walls. “I missed the houses and the market and all the faces on Hokage mountain and the _green_ -ness of Konoha. I missed all the people. I missed Ino’s pigheadedness and shishou’s drunken temper tantrums and Naruto’s energy. Hell, I even missed _you_ , sensei.” She attaches herself to his arm at the last remark and looks up at him with a look of fake adoration, and he laughs. Sakura herself dissolves into giggles, but even as she turns away from him to look back at the street in front of her, she lets one gloved hand linger on the curve of his elbow.

The sun is beginning to set now; Sakura and Kakashi make it into the middle of town in time for the evening energy of Konoha’s inhabitants to fully explode into a beautiful, nightly mess of lights and sounds. Sakura beams, soaking in the vibrant life that Konoha is made of, and then she sees Kakashi looking at her with an unfamiliar expression in his single, hooded eye. 

“Welcome home, Sakura,” he says, and then the lights from the multicoloured lanterns hanging overhead strike his face _just so_ and she is suddenly overcome with the realization that Kakashi is looking at her – _really_  looking at her –and _oh_ , Sakura thinks.

Oh, oh _, oh._

* * *

Sakura considers falling in love with Hatake Kakashi the Greatest Miscalculation of her life. Other Great Miscalculations she has lived through include befriending Naruto, coming to care about Naruto, realizing she will now gladly sacrifice her life for Naruto, and Sai (no other explanation necessary). See, she is eighteen now, and once upon a time she was supposed to be – at the very least – in a committed, long-term relationship with one Uchiha Sasuke. In two years they were supposed to be married, and in another two she was supposed to have their first child. They would probably continue having children periodically until she was thirty-five, at which she would decide to put her foot down and stop. She was supposed to help Sasuke repopulate his clan. She was supposed to become his wife. She was supposed to be the one he loved enough to kill for.

Well. 

It’s not even like Kakashi somehow had a huge personality overhaul and then Sakura saw that he was now a very fine specimen of man. He was just Kakashi-sensei. He just had to be himself. All he did was give her _that_  look, and Sakura knew she was done for. If her preteen feelings for Sasuke were overwhelmingly passionate like brilliant fireworks on a frosty winter evening, then the way she felt for Kakashi now could only be described in the context of the seemingly endless ocean – when storms blow in, its waves crash and rage in rolls of fury and power, but when the sun is out and all is still, the serenity is magnificent in its quiet grace. It is all up and down and topsy turvy but so, _so_  real. Fireworks are short and fleeting, but the ocean remains.

Sakura knows she is in real trouble. Kakashi is a grown man – an elite within Konoha’s ranks – of thirty-two, and she is but a mere eighteen-year-old. The fact that she can smash rocks and chop down trees with her bare fists does not make a difference – she is eighteen and he is thirty-two and that should be the end of that. 

But Sakura has never been one to back down from anything. What she wants, she will chase. She does not want to settle for simply watching his back as he walks away from her, time and time again.

This time, she will run. She will run until she catches up to him. And when she catches up, she will-

Figure it out when she gets there. 

* * *

The summer heatwave is in full force and Sakura can feel the sweat running down her shoulder blades as the gates of Konoha come into view. The mission they just completed was a simple one, but no mission is officially over until the mission report is safe in Tsunade’s hands.

As soon as the four ninja step into Konoha, Naruto predictably skives off with vague excuses of needing to feed his fish, and Sai disappears in a puff of smoke before Sakura has a chance to fix a death glare on his forehead.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sakura growls, and reaches out in time to grab Kakashi, who is just beginning to slink away.

“Ahaha…” Kakashi’s sheepish expression makes her scowl harder.

“Sensei! You’re the team leader, _you’re_  the one supposed to write and hand-in the mission report!”

“Ah, but you’re already so adept at forging my signature and writing nice flowery things about our missions, Sakura-chan-”

“That’s because when I was twelve, you taught me how to forge your signature so that you could disappear after every mission you went on and I was stupid enough to believe that you had more important things to do!”

“Ah, so cold, Sakura-chan-”

“Just be quiet and come with me, or you’ll be eating a knuckle sandwich for dinner.”

* * *

The mission report is written and handed-in without much hassle, mainly because Kakashi knows that it’s easier just to go along with Sakura’s proddings. They have just stepped over the entrance of the Hokage Tower before Kakashi stops and looks at her. Sakura pretends to be preoccupied with adjusting her gloved hand into a position to shield the sun’s rays from her eyes to avoid meeting his gaze. He seems to think for a moment and then continues walking, _Icha Icha_ already open in his hand; his abrupt departure jostles her into hurrying to catch up with him.

“Tell me something, Sakura,” he suddenly says, free hand sliding into his pocket. “Why do you still call me ‘sensei’? It’s been years since I taught you anything.”

Sakura stretches her arms out behind her back and thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. It’s just. I guess that I feel that there’s always still something you can teach me.”

Kakashi stops. Startled, Sakura backtracks two steps and waits for him to speak. He shuts his book close with a soft _snap_  and turns full towards her.

“Do you have a summons, Sakura?”

She thinks of Tsunade’s sweet-tempered slug summon and can’t help but shudder delicately – she loves Katsuyu and probably owes the creature a life or two, but still. “Nope. I never got around to asking shishou.”

“I could teach you to summon an animal, and then you can decide whether or not to enter a blood contract with it,” he continues. His tone is as impassive as ever, but Sakura can see this is a genuine offer. Kakashi’s loyal pack of ninken is almost as well-known as the man himself, and this is something that he has never taught Sasuke or Naruto. Granted, Sasuke and Naruto were both taught this technique years ago, but still – it will be something that Kakashi taught only Sakura. Only Sakura.

“Really?”

His eye smile crinkles at her. “Call me ‘Kakashi’ only from now on, and we’ll call it a deal.”

* * *

Summoning, for Sakura, turns out to be much easier than expected. She remembers the days when Naruto would moan endlessly about only managing to summon tadpoles and uncooperative froglets, and squeals with delight when – one her first try – a full-sized ginger cat appears in a puff of smoke.

She waits with bated breath as the cat looks her up and down, Kakashi’s hand a firm weight on her shoulder to keep her from doing anything foolish. Cats are, after all, known to be temperamental.

“Hmm,” the cat suddenly sniffs. “You’re not as excited as most other people are at the sight of a summons.”

“It’s not that I’m not excited!” Sakura’s hands gesticulate wildly. “It’s just – I-I didn’t want to irritate you right off the bat with noise and whatnot.”

The cat peers thoughtfully at the pink-haired teenager in front of him. It has been a while since the small group of cats he lives with has bound themselves to a human – and with good reason too.

Small movement from the corner of his eye catches the cat’s attention. There is another human behind the first. Brilliant yellow eyes widen as the cat recognizes the man.

“You’re Hatake Kakashi! Contracted with Pakkun’s pack, right?”

The man nods silently, slightly bewildered that a cat from another dimension had heard about him.

“If you see him anytime soon, tell him that Mikkan wants his bottle of scented shampoo back.” A slightly awkward silence ensues, in which Kakashi’s chin jerks down in a sort-of nod and Mikkan _meows_  a yawn. “Anyways,” the cat turns back to Sakura. “Come here, girl. Gimme your scroll.”

“I’m Sakura,” the pink-haired girl hesitantly offers, kneeling down and unrolling the small orange scroll in her hands before locking eyes again with the cat.

“I like you, Sakura. You’re not like most of the other humans I’ve met so far.” The cat is frank and straight-forward – not quite expected, but the characteristic is welcome all the same. “We’ll make a contract with you on one condition.”

Sakura unconsciously swallows, but Kakashi’s presence behind her is strong and unwavering – he knows this process better than she does, and if he hasn’t stepped in to speak yet, there’s no reason for her to be apprehensive.

Another small cloud of smoke suddenly surrounds Mikkan, and Sakura blinks at the five newcomers – all tortoise-shell pattered in various shades of black, white, and ginger orange.

“Think you can stomach sharing your bed occasionally with six clingy cats?”

* * *

The contract is signed without massive amounts of bleeding on either parties, and one of the smaller cats – no more than a kitten, really – has to be dragged away from Sakura’s gentle hands by the tail back to the group by an irritated Mikkan. When the small puff of smoke takes away the pile of cats, silence reigns on the training ground for a moment.

“Well.” Sakura starts. “That was rather. Anti-climactic.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s better that way. Cats don’t tend to bind themselves to a singular human. They prefer tight-knit shinobi clans as a general rule.”

Sakura nods thoughtfully, and then her expression brightens. “Anyways, thanks so much, Kakashi-sensei! I wouldn’t have known what to expect if you weren’t here.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “What happened to leaving the ‘sensei’ off?”

Sakura blushes. “It’s kind of weird though, isn’t it…I mean, you’re still my superior. And I’ve called you ‘sensei’ since I was twelve.”

“I do believe I said we were equals after you and Naruto managed to get those bells from me years ago,” Kakashi comments lightly, hands sliding back into their default position in his pockets.

“You’re still a whole lot better at being a ninja than I am,” Sakura mutters, arms crossing and beginning the long walk back into town.

Kakashi smiles slightly at that, and wordlessly drops into step beside her.

* * *

They start sparring together after that. It’s nice, Sakura thinks, to be able to train with someone she can go all out against without worrying about niceties. Naruto always goes easy against her and Sai has no interest in helping her master ninjutsu. Ino sucks at close-range fighting and Sakura always feels like a bad person asking Lee for help, because she knows the boy will just take it as a sign that she might be opening up to his continued advances.

Sakura still has yet to see Kakashi unmasked. She asks and pleads and begs and tries to strike bargain after bargain with him until one day, Kakashi smirks, “I’ll let you see, but I can’t be held responsible when you fall in love with me.”

Sakura blushes madly and stomps away, leaving behind a chuckling Kakashi. He watches as she disappears around the corner and rubs the back of his head idly, wondering what the hell was wrong with himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mild violence/gore

_Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are shooting stars?_

_I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now._

~Airplanes; B.o.B featuring Hayley Williams

* * *

 

Days pass and the world moves on. Some weeks are prettier than others, but the village of Konoha continues to enjoy a period of peace.

Famine, however, is never pretty. Famine always leads to death, and as the death toll rises the land available for burial decreases and soon bodies start to pile and fester and people get sick. Eventually even the doctors and nurses and medics get sick, and then entire villages perish and the local government has to send in troops (or whatever remains of the troops) to burn down the ghost towns to prevent the spreading of disease, and it is not a nice picture at all. Of course, when this is happening in a far-off place – that is to say, the border between the small Wave Country and the massive Lightning Country – it really does not make it very high up on the foreign priority lists.

The number of people dying just increases, and with each updated report and each updated figure, Naruto begs and begs Tsunade to at least send a team to see how they can help with the situation, but it’s all a mess of politics and _really, we’re just beginning to recover from our losses in the war, boy!_ but Sakura knows, she knows that with each report of children starving Naruto is brought back to a time seven years ago when they, too, had travelled to the Wave Country and met a little boy with defeated eyes. They had helped change things, hadn’t they?

It is nearing midwinter (there’s no snow, the Fire Country never experiences snow fall and neither does the southern Lightning Country; the Wave Country is surrounded by water and its moderating effect and only has to deal with the occasional hurricane) and the situation is not improving. Tsunade still remains stony over this issue but then new reports carry whispers, whispers and accounts and gruesome stories; there is no food, whatever supplies and wealth the Wave Country had has been thoroughly plundered by desperate citizens and ninja from the southern Lightning Country and now the famine is spreading, _spreading_  and even the grass and weeds have long been gouged out and devoured, and there is nothing more horrifying to someone who is not sick than the slow death that wasting away from hunger brings. What is taboo during times of prosperity becomes just another way to survive in desperation: human flesh, once detached from its owner, is just another lump of meat ( _how many “lumps” of meat can one human being provide?)_.

For once, Konoha’s council unites on an issue – cannibalism is in the list of war crimes and crimes against humanity that can result in sanctions being enacted upon another country, and the Fire Country is in no hurry to accept the refugees from either Wave _or_ Lightning Country who will come to escape the harsh restrictions levied upon them. Tsunade decides to send one platoon to the Wave Country to assess the situation and provide help and supplies to the survivors and the sick. 

Team Seven is, predictably, ordered to join the platoon and as Sakura pulls on her black combat gloves (praying to whatever deity is out there that she will not have to use them on civilians, she has to remind herself that these are _civilians_ they are going to be dealing with) and ties up her pack with a stiff upper lip. Her teammates each have their way of showing their apprehension; Naruto does not smile, Sai is even more neurotic than usual, and Kakashi arrives early. 

* * *

The smell hits her first. Unlike the sickly sweet scent of garbage – so familiar around the seedier parts of Konoha – the stench of decaying bodies makes her head spin and throat shrivel up. She can’t breathe. She won’t breathe. Still, she is vaguely proud (in a very, _very_ detached way) when she sees Naruto and Sai collapse to the ground, retching and heaving – because there she is, still standing tall. Kakashi, too, is still upright, but his spine is ramrod straight – and then Sakura remembers that his sense of smell is better than Kiba’s. For a fleeting second Sakura wants to wrap her arms around him and let him curve his body to fit hers and bury his nose into the hollow of her neck where her pulse hammers a steady beat but he is substantially taller than her and dammit, they have people to save and help and bury and- 

They are lucky Kakashi and Sai are so adept at Katon jutsu. Sakura sucks at ninjutsu and Naruto isn’t that much better, Rasengan and all its permutations aside, but the diseases are spreading quicker and quicker and earth burials are not possible because things like dead bits leeching into the surrounding water is _just not an option_. Still, Sakura knows that they will somehow get through this because a miracle arrives in the form of rain.

It hasn’t rained in the Lightning Country in almost eighteen months. The salinity of the surrounding ocean meant irrigation just wasn’t possible, and the dry and mild climate made things no better. Still, nothing absorbs better than a dry sponge, and Sakura watches as the earth drinks up the moisture and the survivors stand just a little straighter.

The second miracle comes in the form of a thirteen year old boy named Inari. His small fishing village hasn’t had a decent bite to eat since before the school year started back in Konoha, but his eyes are still brighter than they had been when Team Seven first met him, all those years ago. Naruto is overjoyed at their reunion and Kakashi finally smiles for the first time since they arrived; Inari doesn’t ask about their new team member and they all secretly look forward to sleeping underneath a roof for the first time in weeks.

Rest never comes. With the arrival of foreign aid comes an influx of rogue ninja all hoping to get supplies for themselves (and the small villages they hide in, their neighbours and their unknowing wives, their little children who have no idea what daddy does at night), and Inari’s village is attacked three times in a week. 

Some tamped-down part of Sakura feels a strange sense of muted grief as her kunai slices through another throat; sometimes it is difficult to tell in the faint moonlight whether the figure running at her is efficient and calculating like a trained fighter or merely desperate and unbalanced like the typical civilian, but she takes no chances. She has orders to take no chances. But a bloodcurdling scream rings out above the sounds of fighting and Sakura nearly loses her balance; her attacker manages to graze her thigh (is that a _pitchfork_?) and she doesn’t have to think, the punch releases itself automatically and Sakura hears rather than feels the vertebrae breaking and then she is running towards the origin of that sound, hoping and praying that is isn’t someone she knows- 

Naruto. Pale beneath the spatter of blood on his whiskered cheeks, both hands desperately clamping down on a jagged wound on Inari’s leg. 

“Sakura-chan!” His voice is frantic and his blue eyes are wild. Inari’s breaths are coming short and choked and Sakura can see he is struggling to stay awake. It doesn’t make sense – kunai wounds don’t bleed that much but Inari’s face is paling right in front of her and his lips are turning purple and-

The kunai is poisoned.

The poison is spreading. Fast.

Sakura moves. Shoving Naruto aside and replacing his hands with a wad of gauze from her side pouch, she rips off a long piece of her skirt and ties it into a tight tourniquet around Inari’s thigh. She quickly fingers his pulse, and without giving prior warning, removes the embedded kunai with one practiced tug. Inari lets out a choked half-scream, already delirious from the poison and the pain. 

Holding the kunai delicately, she takes a cautious sniff at its bloodstained point. Sakura can detect no other scent apart from the metallic tang of blood. She removes his sock and shoe and her worst fears are confirmed at the sight his toes, already turning a nauseating shade of black-purple. The poison is attacking his blood vessels at the cellular level and the capillaries disintegrate first. As the poison spreads, his entire circulatory system will fail bit by bit and fall apart. He will essentially liquefy from the inside out. It is the textbook worst-case scenario.

There is an antidote. Sakura has never used it before, because it takes three days to brew and thus would be completed too late. She has only seen one other case before this, and there is only one known effective method of treatment. Sakura turns her gaze from the boy lying in front of her to the one with the clenched fists hovering beside her.

She summons Mikkan in a puff of smoke. “Find Kakashi for me and bring him here, will you?” The soft exchange does not go unnoticed by Naruto, who immediately demands, “What’s wrong?”

Sakura’s only response is to tie the tourniquet tighter. Ignoring his further questions, she rummages inside her medic kit and finds a small glass vial of morphine. Inari is unconscious already at this point, but Sakura will take no chances. She can give him at least this much comfort.

Kakashi appears at her side in another puff of smoke. A quick scan of the situation tells him all he needs to know, and Sakura’s green eyes lock with his for just a moment and he is moving towards the blonde on her other side.

Sakura is generous with the morphine. While waiting for the anesthesia to take effect, she decides that chakra blades would be more sanitary in this situation, with the added bonus of instant cauterization if she were to use both hands at once. Kakashi, she notes, has one hand on Naruto’s shoulder, said boy still looking confused and suspicious. Sakura takes a breath and removes her gloves, the blue glow of chakra flaring from her right hand.

It clicks – Naruto shouts and tries to leap up, but Kakashi expects this and is too quick for him, clamping him down onto his knees.

“You can’t do this, Sakura!”

Sakura doesn’t want to do this either. But she can, and she will. Because she is a medic, and medics save lives.

“I have to, Naruto,” she gently says. “There’s no other way.”

“You’re that old lady’s apprentice,” he howls. “You helped Kankurou back when everyone thought he was done for! Just give him an antidote or something!”

Sakura is losing her patience. “Don’t you think I would have done so if it was a possibility? I have no choice, Naruto!” Her last sentence is all but shouted back at him, and Naruto meets her gaze for the first time since their conversation started.

His eyes fill with tears. “He’s only thirteen, Sakura.”

Sakura’s breath catches, but her hands do not shake. “I know.”

“He’s only thirteen,” Naruto moans, his body going rigid with grief. “He’s only thirteen!”

“I know,” Sakura whispers, but the blue glow of her chakra doesn’t flicker as she lowers the blade onto skin.

As she carefully severs and cauterizes, Kakashi’s steady and silent presence seems to absorb Naruto’s gasping sobs, and the only sound Sakura registers is the beating of her own heart.

* * *

Inari’s mother collapses onto the floor at the sight of her son, carried by Kakashi through the front door at dawn, but she is quick to be thankful for the fact that he is still alive. Walking and running can be re-learnt, after all. It will be okay.

Sakura’s three teammates – even Naruto – are quick to leave the house to continue helping out with the post-raid situation, but she stays behind to ensure Inari’s condition doesn’t deteriorate.

By the time nightfall rolls around, Inari’s fever has receded somewhat and Sakura is completely drained. Dinner is a sombre affair, with Naruto attacking his fish with a ferocity that makes everyone uncomfortable. Inari’s mother tries to make light-hearted conversation but each of her attempts is shot down by Inari’s grandfather, whose bitterness is so tangible that Sakura can taste it on her tongue. Finally, the older woman gives up and leaves the room with a bowl of thin rice congee for Inari, who wakes long enough to get a mouthful or two down.

There is nothing Sakura wants more than a good long soak in a proper bathtub, but freshwater is a scarce commodity and a quick dip in the freezing ocean must suffice for all of them. It does help to get the sweat and dust off her skin, but the temperature still does nothing for her exhausted mind.

In the inky darkness of her room with no one else around, Sakura cannot get the images of Inari’s bloody leg out of her head. His leg isn’t the first she’s ever amputated and she doubts it will be her last, but it doesn’t change the fact that her hands were the tools that removed it. There is still so much life ahead of him, but now there is a huge stumbling block in front of him and Sakura doesn’t know if he will be able to muster the strength to pull himself over it. It breaks her heart.

She is crying before she knows it. A sliver of light announces someone’s entrance, and she instinctively knows who it is before the sound of his quiet footsteps confirms his identity.

“I couldn’t save his leg,” she whispers.

He sits down with his back slightly facing her and sighs. “You saved his life.”

Sakura nods. She saved his life, but now Inari will have to spend the rest of it learning how to adapt or compensate. Fresh tears emerge. She is just _so tired_ of all the violence and all the hurt because her heart is still soft and vulnerable to things like these, even after all the things she has seen. It is at once both a source of pride and exasperation, but at the moment it feels more like a curse.

Things get a little fuzzy after that because exhaustion finally wins over willpower, and Sakura falls asleep. She wakes with clean cheeks and the vague recollection of the gentle sweep of fingers on her face.

* * *

The rain keeps coming. The putrid stench is nearly gone now, and Kakashi breathes deeply as he ambles down a gentle slope with Sai and Naruto, returning back to Inari’s home after another day of helping to rebuild the village. His two younger teammates run toward shelter and the smell of dinner beginning to waft through the air, but Kakashi pauses when he notices a still figure near the back of the house.

It is Sakura. Water runs in trails down her temples as she stands outside, face pointed towards the sky. In his mind’s eye, Kakashi envisions a scene where he is just Kakashi and she is just Sakura, and she stands out in the rain, waiting for him to come home after a day of work. Her hair would hang loose like it did now, and as she turns to greet him the hem of her skirt would flutter a bit and show her knees.

The real Sakura standing in front of him turns, and his daydream is broken. She is wearing her black combat gloves, and Kakashi knows in that moment that she will always be Haruno Sakura, the prodigious medic-nin, and he will always be Copy-nin Kakashi.

Still, his heart skips a beat when she smiles at him, and he follows her as she gestures for him to come inside.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one before the finale!

_Well I lost my innocence when in I let him dive,_

_But the way that he looked at me m_ _ade me feel alive._

_And now I know, n_ _othin' at all,_

_But the release that comes when you're i_ _n mid fall._

~As It Seems; _Lily Kershaw_

* * *

They are at an impasse in their relationship, and Sakura is reminded of this every time their eyes meet. More than the desire to protect, there is something deeper in the way Kakashi looks at her now. Affection. She recognizes it in the way his eyes soften and gain a little more sparkle, in the way his faint crow's feet crease more and he doesn't look through her so much as directly at her. At the same time, she knows that he will never move of his own accord, although she imagines it is reasonably obvious that she reciprocates his feelings; in all her years of interacting with him and piecing together his past from medical records and personnel files, Sakura has never known the man to purposely do anything for the sake of happiness alone. As a professional, she understands – too many years of survivor's guilt, of PTSD, of if only I had tried a bit harder. As a woman, she wishes he could see how good she could be for him.

She can see how this can pan out for them – he will always be the one she runs to first with any kind of news, she will always be the one he chooses to spend idle time with, and they will always be the closest of friends. They will always toe the right side of the line, but there will always be an undercurrent of desire simmering between them. They will never act on it nor acknowledge it to each other. They will grow old together, perhaps die together on the battlefield. And yet, they will never know how it feels to fall asleep together at night or wake up tangled together in the morning, and at the end of their lives there will be regret.

Damn it all.

She wishes she could've seen Kakashi as a child. She wishes she could have been there when he sat beside the spreading blood of his father's cooling body and held him close. Told him that it wasn't his fault. Told him that he wasn't alone. That even after all this, he was still worthy of happiness and love and all the good things that life could bring.

They are at an impasse in their relationship, and it breaks her heart every time he so much as glances at her, because in his eyes, she sees love.

* * *

Their profession is not conducive to mental health. This is something Sakura knows well, and yet in the eight years she has been training and working as a medic-nin she has never seen anything that has made her question the ninja system like this. Five dark-haired little boys, barely able to throw a kunai, slaughtered. The jounin she had helped arrest – dark-haired, slight, so _average_ – had been laughing when they caught him, tears mixing with the spatter of blood on his face. "It was me," he gleefully shouted, eyes wide and betraying his utter madness. "It was me!"

She reads his file carefully in the hours before his trial. Civilian parents, no siblings. He was five when his mother and father had been sliced open inches in front of him, both trying desperately to shield their son before they fell. The screaming had sent neighbors running within moments – the only reason why he had been left alive at all. They'd never found the killer, but the police didn't look very hard – his father had been a notorious gambler, and loansharks had been harassing them for weeks beforehand. All orphans in Konoha are automatically enrolled in the Academy – they have no other way of supporting themselves, after all.

Sakura has read about this particular type of psychopathy before – traumatic childhood event, compounded by probable genetic vulnerability and years of repressed guilt and self-hatred. The pictures of him as a child look eerily similar to each of the boys he killed.

The execution happens before she even finishes the last autopsy. Not quite what protocol would demand, but they had caught him in the act, and shinobi villages like to take care of these things quickly. Sakura knows the five pairs of little feet sticking up from under the sterile sheets will haunt her for months, maybe longer. It is nearly sunset when she leaves the hospital, and for once the beauty of the multicoloured sky fails to capture her attention. There is only one thing – person - she wants to see right now, and he isn't in the one place she can usually find him at. The journey home from the memorial stone is slow and plodding, to say the least. Sakura can't even find it in herself to give more than a wan smile to an energetic Team Ebisu as she passes them in the streets, dirty and exhilarated from a mission they just completed, no doubt.

Sakura has barely unbuckled her medkit and weapons pouch from her waist when there is a knock at the door. It is Kakashi, complete with his hands in his pockets, an unusually perceptive look in his dark eyes contrasting with his regular slouch.

Sakura stares a bit. And then: "You used the front door."

"I ran into Kurenai at the cenotaph. Said you were just there, but left quickly."

Ah, that's right. She had seen Kurenai and her little Mirai there. With her short dark hair and scraped knees, Mirai could have easily passed for any one of those little boys Sakura left in the basement of the hospital. That may or may not have been part of the reason she beat a hasty retreat when it was clear that Kakashi wasn't at the memorial. Sakura can recognize the beginning signs of secondary trauma in herself and almost laughs at the irony.

Kakashi is still looking at her, concern starting to build in the way his back straightens out. She sighs, cocking her head slightly to the side, and breathes. "How is it that you always know when I need to see you?"

He shrugs, and she takes two steps toward him, softly resting her forehead on the warm steadiness of his chest. His flak vest is scratchy and she isn't touching any other part of him, but it is enough for now. She just needs a minute. Or ten.

Kakashi moves. Takes her hands gently and nudges the top of her head with his chin. "Tell me about it over dinner, hm?"

Sakura lifts her head and looks at him with tired eyes. "You gonna cook?"

He has the decency to look sheepish. "Uh, I was thinking take-out."

A laugh bubbles in her chest, and she shoves him lightly, affectionately. "I'll cook then, you incorrigible man."

* * *

In all fairness, he does try to help her. Sets the table and grabs coasters and that kind of stuff. The remaining time he spends leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching as she silently drops ingredients into steaming broth. Love-hate relationship with Ichiraku aside, there are few things more comforting to Sakura than homemade ramen.

The story comes out as they eat. Kakashi, having been out on a mission, never had any part in the whole debacle, although he heard snippets of it throughout the village. He knows how much Sakura loathes senseless killing, but more than that he can see the underlying anxiety this has triggered in her. Apart from the obvious training part, there is another reason why the system of jounin sensei was created – older, more experienced shinobi can spot psychological instability in their young charges after the inevitable trauma. It is rare now, but Kakashi can still remember that in the first couple years after the last war, sometimes people would be quietly shunted out from their genin teams to become paper-pushers. There were even a couple among his graduating class. It is now clear that some fall through the cracks and never get the help they need.

"Stay," she says later, as they do the dishes quietly. He pauses in his wiping, and Sakura can see the flex in his exposed forearms as he considers what she is saying. "Just tonight," she continues, handing him another bowl. "I'll be okay tomorrow."

"Will you?"

Sakura swallows. Runs her thumb back and forth on a chip in one of the plates. "I will. Promise."

Kakashi nods. "Okay."

* * *

Kakashi dozes lightly all night. The spare futon on the floor is far from uncomfortable, but the restless movement from the occupant of the adjacent bed lingers on the edge of his consciousness. The shrill tone of an alarm clock near his head jars him into complete wakefulness suddenly; it is dawn, and Sakura heaves a sigh and sits up. Kakashi cracks an eye open to peer up at her, and it is immediately clear that she has not slept at all. Her head drops into her hands briefly, and then she runs a hand through tousled hair.

"What are we doing, Kakashi?" Her words drop heavily into the early morning quiet.

His mind draws a blank. Her question is unexpected, and while Kakashi cannot deny having entertained a series of very pretty "what-if"s before, he suddenly realizes that Sakura must have been thinking about this for a very long time.

There is a bit of a self-deprecating smile on Sakura's face as she shakes her head a little, as if not quite believing she had uttered those words herself. Kicking back her blankets, her legs swing over the edge of the bed away from him.

"I leave for a mission today," she softly offers, rummaging through her closet for her standard-issue gear.

Kakashi pulls himself up to rest on his elbows. "Mmm."

"I'll be back in a week."

"Solo?"

"Nah. Still classified though."

"I could probably find out what it is."

Sakura laughs. "I don't doubt that. My team leader is extremely competent though, so you won't have to worry."

"I don't worry."

Sakura turns to meet his lazy gaze. "Yes, you do," she softly says. "You do, and that's why you're still here."

She finishes packing in silence. At the door of her bedroom, she turns, her hand resting lightly on the doorjamb. "Regardless of everything, I am thankful every day to have a friend in you, Kakashi. I hope you never doubt that."

She gives him one last, long look and leaves.


	5. Chapter 5

_When will you notice_

_That I want to offer every piece of my heart to you?_

~Nishino Kana; _DISTANCE_

* * *

Sakura hates that she can only take muffled breaths against the unmarked, porcelain mask on her face. She knows she should be grateful that there are eyeholes at the very least, but ANBU masks are itchy and she hadn't been in the best of moods this morning anyway. Fourteen hours later, her frustration with Kakashi and their impossible situation has simmered down to a tired sort of resignation.

Her jumbled thoughts pause as the high ponytail of her team leader quivers, and he stops abruptly, signalling for them to stop and make camp. This isn't Team Seven, but it is still familiar; she has been their "guest" medic for the past eighteen months, and they are beginning to build a steady and dependable rhythm that Sakura appreciates.

Camp-building is a quiet affair; they are still deep in foreign territory, and their Captain has always erred on the side of caution. Sakura idly wonders how quiet her three teammates were around each other before her entrance into the team; even now, she hasn't had a proper conversation of more than five sentences with two of them. (That isn't to say she doesn't trust them with her back, because she does).

The quiet of the forest at night is nice, but it is almost a relief when her Captain turns towards her, pale eyes glinting behind his mask.

"You should just apply to ANBU and get it over with," Neji comments. "You're pretty much the only medic we ever get now anyway."

Sakura gives a one-shouldered shrug. "ANBU was never my goal. You know the hospital's still my main priority right now."

"I suppose there are advantages to being primarily in Konoha," he acquiesces. It would be impossible for most people to tell, but Sakura sees that he has a bit of a faraway look in his eyes. She smirks.

"Still in the honeymoon phase now, are we?" Her teasing only manages to elicit a barely detectable pink hue in his cheeks; she knows the place to look is his ears, and they are as red as she had predicted.

Neji grunts in response, but doesn't try to hide the upturned quirk of his lips. He is happy. The marriage that had been celebrated just a little shy of one year ago had probably been arranged before he knew how to talk, but after taking a long and convoluted detour away from this path, Neji had been truly his own man when he presented her with a ring and a question. Gracefully standing up, he makes to check the perimeter again, but swivels to look at her.

"He'll come around."

Sakura starts a little. "Hmm?"

"He'll come around," Neji repeats. "And when he does, you'll be the one with the stupid smile on your face."

She glares at bit at his retreating back - damn Hyuuga with his damn perceptive eyes. 

Damn it all.

* * *

Sakura draws the short straw when coming back to Konoha and has to stop by the Hokage Tower to drop off their mission report. To her surprise, Kakashi is leaning against the same pillar he had been waiting for her at two years ago when she came back from the Sand; it gives her an odd sense of deja-vu.

She approaches him cautiously and asks, "What are you doing here?"

Kakashi looks down at her, and then at the mission report in her gloved hands. "Let's walk and talk." He moves without looking behind him, and Sakura rolls her eyes, jogging slightly to catch up. He doesn't say anything as they enter the Tower, but merely follows her as they descend into ANBU headquarters in the underground levels. He is still silent as she hands her report to the ANBU on desk duty, and she huffs in impatience and makes her way into the jounin lounge. Kakashi closes the door behind them, and Sakura whirls around. "I thought you wanted to talk?"

Kakashi sighs, and slips his hands into his pocket. Sakura almost pulls her hair in frustration, but settles on letting her heavy pack fall onto the floor and stalks across the room to fix herself a cup of coffee. When she slides onto one of the couches, mug in hand, Kakashi finally speaks.

"What you asked me before you left," he starts, slowly walking in her direction. "What exactly were you trying to say?"

"Let's not play that game, Kakashi," Sakura replies acidly, setting her cup down on the coffee table. "You know full well what I meant. Most people in our situation would just throw in the towel and move in together like a normal couple, but since neither of us have ever been great at normal, I figured it was about time we tried."

"Sakura," Kakashi tiredly answers, "I am thirty-four years old and much too old for you. You have your entire life in front of you. You're young and vibrant and you do not need someone like me."

"You know what? I don't think you care about that at all," Sakura glares, her hands tightly fisted. "I think you've lived your entire life like this as penance to your teammates, and since they were never happy, you can't be either."

Kakashi's back goes straight. When he replies, his voice is cold. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about," Sakura snaps. "You think I haven't read your files? You still think I'm that naïve, stupid girl you taught way back when?"

"I thought I taught you better than this," Kakashi shoots back.

Sakura snorts. "Face it Kakashi, you barely taught me anything. When you weren't too busy seeing Uchiha Obito in Naruto, you saw yourself in Sasuke. And when everything just went to hell, that was just a whole load more for you to feel guilty about."

Kakashi sighs, his whole body deflating with the exhale of breath. Dropping into a chair, he rubs at his face with gloved hands. "Sakura, I know you don't believe me or think that I'm taking you too lightly, but there is no way you can understand this. Most days, even I struggle to make sense of it."

"There is never any sense to war, Kakashi," Sakura whispers. "And I think you're forgetting something very important."

Running a hand through his hair tiredly, Kakashi raises an eyebrow. Sakura rises from her seat and kneels down before him, her hands on his knees and her eyes looking directly into his. "I am not Rin."

Kakashi's eyes widen only imperceptibly, but his shoulders tense.

"I am not Rin, Kakashi," she repeats. "I am not Rin, Naruto is not Obito, and Sasuke is not you. We've each grown up and made our own mistakes, but we are not the same."

Kakashi snorts softly. "You think I don't know that?"

Sakura shakes her head. "It's not that I think you don't know it, but it doesn't change the fact that sometimes you see us as reflections of them."

Pausing to stand, Sakura withdraws her hands from his knees and takes two steps back. "What happened with Uchiha Obito and Nohara Rin were not your fault, Kakashi."

Kakashi makes to reply, but Sakura holds up her hand to stop him. "No, Kakashi. Hear me out. It was not your fault. You have lived for far too many years telling yourself that you could have prevented the whole mess by being just a little bit better, a little bit faster, a little bit kinder. The truth is that you never could have seen it coming, even if you were all those things. There is nothing you could have done."

The air is silent and heavy with everything that has just been said. Striding towards the door, Sakura bends to pick up the pack she had thrown off. "I wasn't quite fair to you beforehand. It's not true that you barely taught me anything. You taught me what it meant to be brave, to be loyal, and to be a fierce friend." Pausing at the door, Sakura takes a breath and continues, "But you also taught me that there are inevitable losses in being a ninja, and that I have to keep looking forward in spite of those losses."

Turning back towards him, Sakura sees that Kakashi has turned away. Her eyes soften, and she smiles tiredly. "And the reason I'm saying all of this is because I would have loved you with everything I had if you had let me, and I think we could be very happy together. And I think that regardless of where we end up, you need to start believing that you deserve to be happy. Because you do, Kakashi."

Sakura leaves, and shuts the door quietly behind her. That was it. Everything she had ever wanted to say to him. That was it. Sakura sighs, and starts on her way home.

* * *

"Sensei, Obito, Rin. You know that not a day will ever go by in which I don't think about you and wish that things could have turned out differently. You know that I will carry your stories and your burdens with me until the day I die." Hardened fingertips touch smooth granite softly. "But I think she's right. And I think I've known it for years."

The gloved hand drops from the memorial stone and slips back into a pocket. "I've always lived as if to appease you, and that was something I chose. And now, I want to choose happiness. You guys will be okay with that, right?"

The figure touches the stone again briefly, and then wordlessly melts back into the early morning shadows. 

* * *

Days pass in blessed monotony. Sakura turns down several missions with Neji's team for a series of time-consuming surgeries that cause her days and night to bleed into each other and is dragged by Tsunade into attending three days of mind-numbingly boring meetings with the hospital's board of directors about allocation of funds. Most of the downtime she has is spent with Shizune in research labs, concocting antidotes to a wide variety of poisons and toxins, and she manages to squeeze in several training sessions with Sai. The one time Naruto drags her out for ramen for dinner, he tells her between huge mouthfuls that Kakashi has started to train him intensely in ninjutsu again, and asks why he hasn't seen the two of them together in a while.

Almost three weeks after their last conversation, Kakashi shows up at Sakura's house. She knows he is inside even before she unlocks her door, and steels herself for whatever passive-aggressive confrontation that is likely to occur as she lets herself in and starts to unzip her boots.

Kakashi is leaning against the doorjamb of her kitchen, and waits for her to take off her boots and undo her pack before he speaks. "Why me?"

Sakura is confused for a moment. "What?"

"Why me," Kakashi repeats. "Why me, of all people in the village. You could have anyone you wanted, civilian or ninja. Why me?"

Sakura flops down onto her couch and laughs. "Three weeks, and you only ask me this now?"

Kakashi is silent, but moves across the room to stand in front of her, his hands in his pockets and his slouch ever-present. The sight of him standing over her is familiar and comforting, and Sakura can't help but smile. Sitting up properly, she pats the seat next to her. Kakashi ignores her gesture and sits himself down on the floor, back leaning against the couch. The action is just so Kakashi, so engrained into her heart, that Sakura can barely resist the urge to run a gentle hand through his tousled hair.

"You're just you, Kakashi," Sakura shrugs. "Whether you're on a mission or back in the village with downtime or whatever you're doing – you're just you. And one day it was like I opened my eyes and saw that even with your flaws, you've always been a constant in my life and you have never once let me down when I really needed you."

Sliding down from her spot on the couch to join him on the floor, Sakura wraps her arms around her legs and continues. "You are a leader who values the lives of his subordinates above his own, you feel more strongly than you ever let on, and the most wonderful thing is that you don't know how wonderful you really are."

Kakashi half-sighs and half-laughs, face turning toward the ceiling. Looking back down at her through hooded eyes, he asks, "How is it possible that you make a man like me sound like such a saint?"

"It's because I choose to see the good in situations and in people," Sakura quietly answers. "It's something I have to choose to do, every single day. Just like how I choose to see you as the man you really are instead of the man you want others, and even yourself, to think you are."

They are silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts and grappling for words to say. Finally, Kakashi turns to look at her fully.

"I'm not going to be someone I'm not, Sakura. I can't promise you the things of pretty dreams and fantasies, because there isn't any of that in me to give you. But I don't want to lie to you, because you remind me of why I get up each day and keep fighting."

Sakura's fingers are fisted tightly in the material of her skirt as Kakashi speaks, her eyes never once leaving his face. He laughs softly, but continues. "I have never before let myself want anything like this, but since I do want this" – he slips a finger under his mask and pulls-

"I'm willing to try."

His face is open and honest and his nose is straight and centred and his cheeks are a little hollow but healthy and his jawline is narrow but strong and his words are coming from lips that are a little chapped, and Sakura knows that this is as close to a confession as she will ever get from him. And it is beautiful. He is beautiful.

"That's all I ever wanted to hear from you," Sakura whispers hoarsely, moving to embrace him; they meet halfway, and his arms are strong and sure across her back.

When they break apart, Sakura's eyes are glimmering and she laughs wetly. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Kakashi gives her a look, and Sakura swallows at how handsome and complete his face is without the mask. His expression grows slightly uncomfortable, and he asks, "Is it that different without the mask?"

Sakura pinks in the face and laughs. "Well, you're definitely going to have to give me some time to get used to it."

"We'll have plenty," Kakashi quietly says, taking one of her hands in his.

Sakura nods, and then her watery smile turns mischievous. "So…what do you like about me?"

* * *

_And I don't know how it gets better than this_

_You take my hand and drag me headfirst, fearless_

_And I don't know why but with you I'd dance_

_In a storm in my best dress, fearless_

~Taylor Swift; _Fearless_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!
> 
> This was originally written as a one-shot and posted in 5 parts over several years. The idea was conceived around late 2009/early 2010, and as such it diverged very heavily from canon. With that said, in this universe Kakashi does actually eventually become the Rokudaime Hokage as well - Tsunade has enough of political life and retires when Naruto et al. are only in their early 20s and decides Kakashi is the most suitable candidate before Naruto is mature enough to take up the helm. So in that way, I ended up converging with canon haha. Kakashi and Sakura do eventually get married and have 2 boys. Sasuke secedes himself and takes up wandering full time. Naruto makes peace with this. Sai and Yamato end up back on ANBU full time when Kakashi becomes Hokage, and in general Team Seven is a very happy family. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! With all the random plot ideas I've accumulated over the years, perhaps I'll see you guys around here again soon? ;)


End file.
